


aribus teneo lupum

by corvus_corvus



Category: Bleach
Genre: ? - Freeform, Awful Latin Titles, Bad Dirty Talk, Dirty Talk, Does Ichigo like Shirosaki?, Does Shirosaki like Ichigo?, F/M, I meant for it to be Ichiruki, Likely Used Incorrectly, NSFW, Nobody knows, This is supposed to be Ichiruki, We all know Ichigo adores Rukia, Wet Dream, Why Did I Write This?, but - Freeform, mastrubation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 13:47:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13436028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corvus_corvus/pseuds/corvus_corvus
Summary: An unsustainable situation in which both doing nothing and doing something to resolve it are equally risky.





	aribus teneo lupum

aribus teneo lupum- an unsustainable situation in which both doing nothing and doing something to resolve it are equally risky  
___

Sweaty and writhing, he hears a moan before realizing that he made the sound. Ichigo feels good, so good that he can’t fucking see, vision blurred. He focuses on trying to regain his vision even as he feels thrusting, slick pressure around his dick. He hears himself cry out again, but he can’t shake the disturbance of not knowing who it is making him feel this way. He wants to know. He has to know. He needs to know or he feels like he can’t fucking cum. He squeezes his hand where it is placed on what feels like a waist and hears hitched breath in response. He’s heard that sound before. It almost sounds like-

Rukia.

Suddenly and unexpectedly he can see again and it is instantly too much. Her naked and on top of him. Her legs on either side of his hips, thighs pressing tight against him. Her breasts bouncing as she moves. The way he can see how she moves his cock in and out of herself leaves him light-headed and he thinks he might cum from just that until he looks up and meets her gaze. Rukia looks serious, focused, but she smiles softly when he makes eye contact and laughs when he blushes. The sound of her laughter makes his chest feel like it’s going to break open and his eyes fall shut when he feels her clench around his dick. She moans at the look of rapture on his face. Reopening his eyes, Ichigo stares back at her, adding force to his thrusts and Rukia gives him this wicked smirk. Bring it on, it says, and Ichigo suddenly thinks he may have bitten off more than he can chew, but the panic spurs him on and he knows that will be his undoing. She will be his undoing. And he doesn’t even care and he feels like he’s going to break, going to cum, hard and deep inside her. He can’t keep his thoughts straight and his dick aches at how turned on he is but he feels it coming over him and thinks, “This is it, I’m dead” before-

He wakes up. Alone and sleeping on his side. It’s three AM and he hasn’t seen Rukia in what feels like forever, but she can’t help disturbing his sleep even when it isn’t because of a wakeup call to go hollow hunting. Ichigo sighs and rolls onto his stomach before realizing the tent in his pajama pants. Now he really sighs, deeper and more hopeless. It just feels so wrong. Rukia’s never expressed any interest in him in all the years they’ve known each other and if he’s being honest he’s just as much to blame. In his defense, this aggressive sexual attraction to her is relatively new, new enough that he still feels guilty enough to abstain from jerking off to thoughts of her. Every time it happens, though, he feels the desperation build. Desperation to fuck. To cum. Just something other than waiting for her to leave his mind in a way he knows she never will. Ichigo suspects that someday the desperation will override the guilt, he will falter and cum hard all over his own hand imagining it’s hers and promptly be sent to hell for getting off on thoughts of his best friend who has never been anything but the light of his life.  
Ichigo sighs.

I don’t want to deal with this, he thinks as he turns on his side and works to fall back asleep.  
___

Drowsy and almost asleep, Ichigo feels the familiar pushing from the back of his mind, a pain at the base of his skull. Leave me alone. “King.” There was the voice, drawling the nickname with a teasing lilt.

The pushing in the back of his mind grows and Ichigo watches the darkness behind his closed eyes blur. Suddenly he’s standing in his inner world even as he is consciously aware of laying in his bed. “Hey,” calls a voice from behind him, and he can hear the grin woven into the words just as clearly as he hears the clock ticking in his room. Never has he been so aware of this liminal dual-reality experience. 

The pale hand on his shoulder makes him jump. 

“C’mon,” the hollow drawls as he moves to look Ichigo in the eye. Ichigo sees the raised eyebrows and dangerous smirk and wonders if he’s missing something. 

“C’mon what?” Ichigo asks, eyes narrowed in skepticism. “And why are you here? Why am I here? How can you just pull me in here? What the hell?” Even though he tries to keep his voice calm, Ichigo can hear himself get just a little more hysterical with each question, the implications of being dragged into his subconscious unwillingly too terrifying to completely bottle up. He is sure the panic does not go unnoticed by the hollow. 

That vicious, widening smile tells Ichigo he’s right. The hollow knows he has the upper hand. “Hmm,” the hollow brings a hand to Ichigo’s face and Ichigo flinches, leaning away. The way he stares at him and with the hunched shoulders and sharp teeth, Ichigo can’t help but think of some carnivorous predator sizing up potential prey.

“I would think it’d be obvious,” he says. “You spend half your time dreaming about holding her hand like a stupid schoolboy and half your time dreaming about fucking her.” He doesn’t need to elaborate who ‘her’ is. Ichigo cringes. “And even worse, you won’t do anything about it.” The hollow starts to circle him as he lists. “You won’t talk to her about it. You won’t even try to hint at it. You won’t try to forget her or any bullshit idea like that. You won’t just act.” He pauses to get into Ichigo’s face, expression turning from knowing grin to cold exasperation. “The least you could do is get rid of some of the tension and you won’t even do that.”

“I don’t want to think of her that way. It’s not right-”

“Oh, you may not want to think of her that way, but you sure do. I’m part of you. You can’t lie about this.” He looks angry now, a slow boiling thing moving towards fury so tense the veins stand out in his neck. “You can’t tell me you don’t think of what your hands would look like on her bare hips. About her hands pulling your hair. About what her face would look like as she cums with your head between her legs.”

And Ichigo can’t help it. He exhales as he feels his dick twitch from the mental image and there’s no way the hollow missed it. Two pieces of the same soul in a single body. His heart pounds.

The hollow shudders in sympathy. Suddenly his faces turns serious, but softer. “She won’t know,” he whispers, and Ichigo’s resolve vanishes. 

Outside his mind, Ichigo reaches down his pajama pants, wraps his hand around his cock, and groans, head tucked into his shoulder to muffle the sound. 

He may be jerking himself off in reality, but the sensation easily floods his inner world and, as far as he can tell, the hollow is no less affected. The hollow sways and leans against him, gasping. “King,” he stutters out while his eyebrows draw together and his hands grasp Ichigo’s shoulders tighter. Ichigo never thought his own face could look so erotic.

It’s a weird sensation, being equally aware of himself and his actions outside his mind, yet still feeling present within his mind, with the hollow whispering in his ear, not moving but feeling everything so completely. It’s almost like an out-of-body experience, watching himself stroke and squeeze his dick even as he is conscious that they are his own actions. 

Ichigo can’t help but think something is very wrong here, that something is very wrong with him. Listening to the dark voice inside his head talk him to orgasm seems twisted enough, but the way the hollow keens, fuck. He sounds like Ichigo is jerking him off instead. Maybe he kind of is though, his brain belatedly supplies, given they are the supposed to be same person no matter how stubbornly Ichigo protests the truth. Ichigo feels dizzy, he can’t handle this train of thought ever, let alone when he’s dreaming about the shape of Rukia’s mouth when she moans. Not when he has another voice growling in his ear, making it feel like all his blood is in his dick and none of it in his brain.

What the fuck is wrong with me? Ichigo lets the thought swirl through him and allows shame and disgust bubble up in response, but he sure as hell doesn’t stop spreading slick pre-cum all over his cock. It’s rare he feels this good, so lost in it that he feels free. How excited he feels only excites him more, a nasty feedback loop that drags him in all to easily. The hollow calls him again, and all his capability for introspection is destroyed when he hears that rough voice.

“You dream of her so many ways I don’t even know where to start,” and Ichigo hears the smirk in those words even if he doesn’t see it. “How about slow, gentle and loving? You like thinking of a first time like that.” He pauses to listen to Ichigo’s frantic breathing. “Or maybe not. You’re jerking your dick so fast maybe you’d rather imagine it rough right now. Maybe you wanna think about holding her up against the wall, hands on her ass, her ordering you around even as you fuck up into her.” Ichigo whimpers while his hips buck more than he intended. 

“Yes,” the hollow starts again, hissing, “that’s a good one, isn’t it? You like thinking about her telling you what to do? Does her giving orders while you fight get you off, too?” Ichigo is blown away by the question, but the way he feels his cock swell in response tells him that even if he hasn’t consciously given it much thought, his body’s answer is an unequivocal yes. What the fuck? He can’t stop repeating that thought.

The hollow hums as Ichigo feels him press closer. “That feels good, doesn’t it? Even if I didn’t love her for anything else, I’d love her for the effect she has on you. No one else gets you going like this. No one else lets me see how you tense up, how your face changes, what you sound like when you’re going to cum.” Ichigo freezes up while the hollow shudders. Their proximity makes it so that Ichigo is hyper-aware of feeling his other self’s body as it barely presses against his back, a fleeting sensation of solid, strong, and hard. Oh god.

“C’mon,” The hollow grumbles against him, “let’s get this over with. Why haven’t you stroked the fucking vein yet? You know how good it feels.” Ichigo feels like he can’t breathe, but he follows the orders because he likes being told what to do more than he admits. A little gentle pressure to the underside of his dick gets him so hard and he feels himself pulse in response. He moves his hand to play with the head a little, and gets a gasp broken from the hollow, dick twitching. “Fuck, yes that’s it,” the hollow rambles, “now think of her. Say her name.”

“No.” It’s too much.

“Yes,” he hears the cackle all too close to him, “say it. Call out for her. Let her know what she does to you.” Ichigo refuses to say it, but he moves faster, strokes harder. “Let her know what she does to both of us, Ichigo.” Ichigo moans, he feels like he’s losing control. Something about the way the hollow says it is so persuasive. He feels himself begin to shake, he wants to come but something’s missing. He gives in.

“Rukia,” he whispers, worshipful. His hips jerk, working his cock, shoving it through his fist. 

“Fuck yeah,” the hollow replies, grin gone and replaced by a slack jaw, gasping for air, “Rukia.”

The hollow presses his chest to Ichigo’s back, snakes his arms around Ichigo to press his fingers against narrow hips. He leans in, white hair brushing the back of Ichigo’s neck before the hollow whispers in his ear, “Think of her eyes. Rukia’s eyes.” Ichigo’s eyes widen, and he stops breathing as the world froze for the split-second it took to picture her eyes. God, they looked at him with such emotion, so strong, so determined-

And he cums with a curse, eyes squeezed shut and breath heaving. 

“Shit, King,” the hollow groans feeling release wash over him, after all they are one and the same. “Think of her eyes and the way you can see her, really see her and her soul. Fuck. And what a fucking beautiful soul it is,” he continues babbling as he rides out the simultaneous tension and looseness that is orgasm. Ichigo gasps quietly in response, dick throbbing. The hollow grins. “I know this sentimental shit gets you off. It’s fucking shameful.”

“Shut up,” Ichigo bites back even as he keeps stroking himself. He doesn’t want this to end. He doesn’t want to face the shame he has felt in the back of his mind the entire time. He doesn’t want to think about whatever the fuck this weird encounter was.

The high dwindles and he is left sticky and messy and he’s not even sure he’s sated. What the hell just happened? He thinks this even as he doesn’t want to think about what happened at all.

“Nice work,” the hollow chuckles, his worn voice drawing Ichigo’s attention more than it should.

“I can’t believe I just did that,” Ichigo mumbles, panic in his voice but tiredness overtaking him, “I can’t believe you just did that. What the fuck. She’s going to kill me.”

The hollow laughs. “Just sleep. You’re useless when you’re tired. Guilt trip yourself in the morning.”

Ichigo groans, dreading any moment beyond now. The hollow continues, and Ichigo hears the words even as he drifts off to sleep. “Sweet dreams, Ichigo.”


End file.
